My Kingdom for a
by Spoon10488
Summary: A house elves loyalty is to its master, but Harry Potter is not a house elf even if he was raised among them. Who will receive The Boy Who Lived's loyal? The Dumbledore's, the Malfoy's or someone much worse? Strong!Smart!Harry
1. Prologue

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_Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you think I'd be writing on FanFiction?_

_Summary: A house elves loyalty is to its master, but Harry Potter is not a house elf even if he was raised among them. Who will receive The Boy Who Lived's loyal? The_ _Dumbledore's, Malfoy's, or so one much worse._

_Pairing: Undecided (Either a 'no-pairing' or a 'slash' pairing. Review with your suggestions.)_

_Rating: 'M' (Depending on pairing possible 'NC-17') _

_Warnings:_

_-Possible future mature content_

_-Possible future violence _

_-Possible future Slash pairing (this includes sexual content)_

_- Possible foul language  
- Possible slow updates (C'est la vie)_

_-General and unintentional butchering of the French language. (Sorry grade 11 French was the highest level I took before I couldn't stand the teacher anymore. Pity.)_

_-General and unintentional butchering of the English language. (Okay I don't have an excuse for this considering English is my first language. I just suck at spelling and grammar. Aren't you all lucky.)  
_

_**My Kingdom for a… Prologue**_

It so happened that on the night that one Harry James Potter became an orphan another orphan of a different sort was aimlessly wandering about. Little did anyone know that when these two futures crossed the out come would shake the foundations of basic wizarding society.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

The night was cool and crisp, too cool for a midnight stroll with out an overcoat. Though it was to be expected for the end of All-Hallows-Eve season. The smell of engine exhaust was still clearing from the area as two lone figures disappeared into the night.

The streetlights of Privet Drive were regaining their original brightness now as the figures had left. The air was once again fresh in the scents of autumn as a gentle breeze rustled the remaining leafs on the trees. Over the light noise, the almost silent breathes of a sleeping baby had no hope of being heard. His small frame starting to succumb to slight shivers as the night reached it's coolest.

It was in the early hours of the morning that the quiet of the neighborhood was broken. There was a near silent 'pop' followed by a not so silent collision of metal garbage cans. The angry yowl of a cat was drowned out by the moaning and incoherent wailing of a higher pitch than normal voice. Even if one could get past the words that were total gibberish you would realize that the speaker was switching between languages. Though it seemed that French and English were the most predominant. The most noticeable thing about this voice was it was female and most defiantly drunk.

"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu… pourquoi? Why? Mon maître… Master! Nande? What does I be doing… Where! I have not cloth! Mon Dieu, mon Dieu… DEAD! Nooooo!" The voice broke off into more wailing and unrestrained sobs that grew in volume as the speaker most likely staggered down the street. The sound of a glass bottle being dragged across the stony ground could be heard now also.

The tired and shivery frame of the baby on the stoop of number 4 Privet Drive became animated as the child woke up. The cold causing the babe to tear up and begin to cry for warmth.

The child's wails seemed to cause the female voice to quiet. The ticking of the glass also became silent before starting up once again. The scuffling of bare feet on dew soaked grass was not enough of a distraction to cause the baby to stop crying, though the sudden appearance of a long nose, wrinkled skin and buggy eyes was.

The baby hiccupped; his red tear stained face almosted glowed in the night. The strange creature with floppy ears seemed to study the baby though it swayed slightly in it's inebriated state. The baby in return seemed to study the strange creature swaying above him. The creature had mud coloured skin. It's floppy ears seemed to defie gravity as they curved slightly up and into a point at the tips. Her giant buggy eye were the same muddy brown colour as her skin though perhaps a shade lighter, it was hard to tell in the darkness. What was easy to see was that they were puffy and tinked red from alcahol comsuption and long hours of tears. Many wrinkles cover her frail looking form though not all of them were from old age. She was quite advanced in years especially in comparasion the muggles of the world.

The baby gruggled a little and sucked on his thumb as the creatures high quality rags ruffled in the breeze. The garment looked to be an old pillowcase of sorts. It had at one time possibley been made of silk and linen, but now looked unsuitable for even a dog to lay on. None of this seemed to bother the skinny creature.

The babies curious eyes were drawn back up to the creatures faces as she stared to speak,

"Un bébé. What does doing you here? C'est froid, much too cold. Too, too froid… for bébé. What's being of you's naming? Me is being Metra." The small creature squinted at the small jumper the baby was wearing the golden letters H. J. P. were barely visible is the streetlamp's light. "HashJuPa? May being French name? Silent 'H'? JuPa… bah! No not liking… bad name. So petit… petit… small. Big eyes, grand les yeux." The small creature started suddenly. "Ah! I's be of naming you Soury, like little mouse 'souris'. Soury being of mine now." The small creature set the bottle down and, as carefully as the intoxicated creature could, picked up the baby. It swayed in a gentle rocking motion, but whether it was on purpose or because of the drink was not known.

Large green eyes followed every movement, but didn't cry. Growing tired they slowly closed as the warmth of the creature's frail body warmed him. Before long the child was fast asleep.

The creature's buggy mud coloured eyes stared at the child. She whispered quietly to the baby in a slurred voice,

"My's master is mort… dead. I's have served 70 years in the honurib…hournab… honorable house of Toussaint." Her words were filled with inebriated pride before tears started to well up again, "All gone, mort. I's have to go Ministry. I's be needing a new Master or Mitressissississ… They has Department of Elf Establishment." The creature, know identified as a Elf of some sort, informed the sleeping child in her arms, "They's finding me new honurib…hournab… honorable house. You's come with me, but being quiet…shhhhh. No one will take you aways of… from me."

With a near silent 'pop' the baby and elf were gone just as the sun broke over the horizon. Leaving the occupants of number 4 Privet Drive with a half empty bottle of butterbeer and a small knitted blanket with the initials H. J. P..

TBC

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

_A/n: Okay that was short, my warnings at the top made up almost half this chapter…er… prologue. If you haven't already noticed I seem to be rambling which is a neat talent considering I could just backspace all of this and you would have never known… yeah. Anyway nervous ramblings, because I am nervous. This is my first Harry Potter fic. I've only done Naruto before… Yeah I'm done talking…typing._

_Please review._

_Now I'm done typing…_


	2. Chapter 1 – Favor

_Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you think I'd be writing on FanFiction?  
Pairing: Still Undecided (get your votes in soon or miss out.)  
Rating: 'M' (Depending on pairing possible 'NC-17')  
Warnings: Refer to Prologue  
_

_**My Kingdom for a… Favor**_

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As the sun continued it's slow climb into the sky the little elf, Metra, approached a home that only those who already knew where it was could find.

She quietly swayed up to a discoloured brick at the far corner of the house. It was an entrance for the bounded elves of this home. An inherent knowledge was given to those elves loyal to the family living within. This door was separate from the main entrance and had easier access to the kitchens. Besides no self-respecting witch or wizard would allow a lowly house elf to use the same entrance as him or her. This family was no exception to the rule in fact there was distinct possibility that their ancestors created the unwritten rule.

As Metra got within a few feet of the wall the wards snapped to attention. The protective magic obviously didn't recognize her but because she was not here out of ill intent and she was also an elf, would only summon the Head elf of this family to deal with her. That was fine because that is whom she came to speak with anyway.

She pasted throw another barrier and to any magical onlookers it would have seemed the little elf had disappeared into thin air. For around this corner of the house was a strong elven magic that would prevent her, an unbounded elf, from advancing any further without permission.

The baby in her thin arms wiggled a bit obviously feeling the magic swirling around them. The child did not wake though.

She stood on the dew soaked grass wriggling her bare toes in the cool dampness for a minute before the bricks in the wall before her shifted and rearranged to form a small open only large enough of an elf.

Out of the dark entrance came a grizzly looking house elf. With sunken eyes and flabby skin. There were old cut and scars littering the body of the new elf. It's wary and annoyed look faltered at seeing Metra. Surprise encompassed the grubby and wrinkled face before a look of rage took over.

"You!" the new elf hissed tensing in the doorway. "How dare you come to the house of my honorable Mistress? Leave, leave! Return to your Master at once!"

"Mon maître est mort." Metra let out a short sob. "Il y a huit jours."

"Pardon…dead? The honorable house of Toussaint's last heir is dead? You have been without an owner for eight days? You are an unwanted elf? A disgraceful, horrible elf you must be! What have you done to make yourself unwanted?! Did you bring shame on honorable house of Toussaint? Is this why you have no new Master? Disgraceful, disgusting, dishonorable!"

"No!" Metra cried out disparately. The shouting caused the baby to stir, but luckily not waken. "I am a good elf, always watching, always listening, always unseen! A good elf, a good elf! I took care of Master to his very last breath! Ayez la foi dans moi! Have trust, have faith." The smaller elf quieted from her denial. It seemed that some of the effects of the Butter beer had diminished. "I am a good elf loyal to my master, never a thing out of place in my Master's mansion. I even became a Bower… the Left Bower." The pride was evident in her voice before it dimmed into sorrow again. "I was mourning my master. Found some Butter Beer and the days have all blended together…"

The large elf had listened quietly through her speech, his gnarled nose twitching slightly in the morning air. Finally he sighed.

"Fine, I believe you. But you should not be here, you should be at to the DoEE (Department of Elf Establishment)…" Then a sneer crossed his scarred and ugly face, "…and no more Butter Beer! It is disgraceful for an elf of so many noble families and Masters to be a drunken waste. Disgraceful. You are going now to DoEE?"

Metra nodded.

"Good…" After hesitating for a moment the larger elf gave a sour look and then spoke again, "I will do you the favor of spreading the news of your recent bond dissolvement to my Mistress and the elves of other honorable pure-blood families. They will likely to be interested."

That would help Metra find a suitable Master or Mistress the fastest. House elves could pass news to other elves faster that a wizard could drop to their knees to make a fire call. The news would spread quickly.

Many would be interested in signing her into a bonded contract with their families. She would be a great asset not only for her experience servicing in the noblest of homes but as for any information she had gleaned from the years in the service of previous masters and mistresses. Once a bond contract was dissolved an elf no longer had any reason to keep the secrets from their new masters or mistresses.

Most wizarding families used a ritual to remove memories of importance or secrecy incase of a bond dissolvement. This was preformed after the elf's binding and before they were aloud to enter the home. It was a ritual that acted like a filter preventing, to a degree, the elf from hearing anything of a questionable nature but still allowing the elf to receive orders. Only the Head, Right and Left Bowers were privileged to keep their memories fully intact. Metra was the Toussaint families Left Bower, a position she worked very hard to earn. She only received it upon the death of the previous Head Elf. Wizards had little to do with house elf affairs so the selecting of Head, Right and Left Bowers was left up to elfin nest. The 'nest' being another term for all the elves that served and were bonded to that family.

When an elf of such an old and noble family returns to availability it spells a possible change of power for the wizarding family lucky enough to be the first to bond them to their home. Black mail is an extremely useful tool in higher wizarding society though none of them wound ever use such a harsh term as 'black mail', merely a 'decision influencer'.

"Merci… but that is not what I am being here for." Metra said while holding the bundle in her arms out for the Head elf to see.

He crinkled his gnarled nose at the baby in her arms.

"What is this? A baby, whos?"

"Mine."

The large elf scoffed at that.

"It is not your baby for it is obviously not an elf. This is a human child… at least it seems to be a wizard. Did you steal him?" he cried in sudden anger.

"No! He is mine! I found him out alone in the cold. In a disgusting muggle living area, on front step." She defended herself while hugging the baby protectively to her fragile looking chest.

"Muggle? What were you do there?" the head elf asked suspiciously.

Metra flushed slightly. "I miss calculated my destination, a bit too much Butter Beer."

The other elf snorted again at the obvious understatement. He could still smells the sweet caramel scent that came from Butter Beer.

"I see. So what is it you want? Hmm… I am very busy. My Mistress will wake soon and the other two elves are not worthy to service her. She will be needing me." The elf said a little arrogantly.

Metra nodded. "I need you to be taking baby Soury…"

"No!" the large elf interrupted, "No! Mistress would be mad. She is still mourning over the young Master's death, even though it has been almost two years."

"Just for a couple hours." Metra begged. "I do not want to take him to DoEE, they might try to take him away from me…"

"Good! House elves serve Masters not raise unwanted babies." He said in a stubborn tone.

"He is wanted! I want him, please… he is all I have left." Tears were filling Metra's mud brown eyes.

There was an uncomfortable silence before a harsh sigh broke it.

"Fine." He said reluctantly muttered. "He can stay in the kitchen with Tummber to watch him."

"Merci!" Metra cried, tears drying up quickly.

"But for no longer than three hours! You better be back by then or I will put the baby back out on the door step." He grumbled threateningly.

Metra just smiled and handed over the baby.

"His name is Soury like little mouse. I named him myself." She said proudly.

"Whatever… you better go the time is counting down. Three hours, do not be late!" he growled causing the baby in his arms to wiggle.

Metra walked out of the wards, but turned just as the head elf was about to go back inside. She shouted over to him, "Many thanks, Head-Kreacher." And with a near silent 'pop' she was gone.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

The Department of Elf Establishment is a little thought of department though most every ministry worker walked by it on a daily bases. Its entrance was tucked away out of sight and rarely noticed, just like the creatures this department serviced.

There were two separate doors one for wizard use and the other one for house elves. Metra scurried quickly and quietly towards the smaller and less visually pleasing door. She was an expert at dodging wizards and witches, as she had been serving them for a great many years. Her movements were small and speedy. Slipping around legs, avoiding high heels and swishing robs that hurried through the ministry hallways.

She ended up having to squish up against a Daily Prophet newspaper distribution stand as the large mass of witches and wizards flooded the halls from the undetectable extension charmed, elevator. She shooed away a copy of the Daily Prophet that was trying to sell itself to her, she had no interest in the news of the wizarding world. Finally she was able to make a beeline for the DoEE offices.

The dejected newspaper floated it's self back over to the stack of papers only to be purchased moments later by a passing witch. Today's paper was causing quite a stir. In large print the words 'You Know How defeated!' and 'Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived!' were splattered across the front pages. On the bottom of that same page was a list of Death Eaters to be put on trail, though not all of them would be convicted and sentenced.

Metra entered through plain small door that lead into the DoEE. The office was split into to sections the Wizarding side and Elfin side. A large opaque wall was the division point and was used to separate the two sides.

Metra approached the low counter where another elf sat filing reports and statements from other departments. Why have wizard waste there time when they could pawn it off on some poor elf?

The elf glanced up slightly surprised by Metra's appearance. The DoEE was usually a 'feast or famine' in terms of busyness. Whenever a final heir died all the elves of the family would come to the DoEE to receive another placement. Unless the elves were of special station they would usually be placed doing some grunt work for the ministry until a family requested to purchase an elf. Those with special station like the Bowers would be put in a silent auction. If the demand and interest were great enough the elf, usually the Head Bower, would be placement for regular auction after contacting all interested parties. The elf was usually not present for the actual auction and would receive a summon when the highest bidder was selected.

Metra shuffled closer to the low standing desk.

"I am being here to receive placement." She said with as much sobriety as possible.

The elf behind the desk had grey eyes and was wearing the ministry sanctioned uniform, in other words a rag with the ministry emblem on it. Not that the ministry emblem meant anything it was pretty much a for sale sign advertising the elf.

"I understand. Please which family or placement are you from?" ask the screechy voiced elf behind the counter.

"Ahh… my Master being… was being of the honorable house of Toussaint." She said caught between tears and pride.

"Toussaint?" the elf asked in surprise. "You are a great deal later arriving than the others elves of the honorable house of Toussaint. They came here over 7 days ago."

Metra blushed a little hoping not to be question as to why she was later than the rest. Luck seemed to be on her side as the elf behind the counter simple pulled out the forms she needed to fill out to apply for another family.

"Please give a magical imprint to the form to verify your station within your pervious Master's home.

Metra pulled the form closer before taking her index finger and scratching a long line down the length of the page. Words started to appear on the form and she hand it back the ministry elf.

"Thank you Metra. You station has been confirmed as… Left Bower!" the elf shouted in surprise. "A Bower of the honorable house of Toussaint…" the elf said in a little awe and hero-worship. Bowers of well respected families were held in high regard even by elves not bond to the family, it simply was the way of Elfin Hierarchy.

Metra blushed yet again, she should have been use to the reactions of other elves by now but every once in a while she found herself caught off guard once again.

Usually the station the elf was placed before their name. There are four levels in Elfin Hierarchy; Bowers, Avin, Biovin, and Invertevin. Bowers are the highest station and the elves that served the Masters and/or Mistresses most closely. Avin are the second highest grouping usually consisting of highly specialized elves trained in a particular area. Biovin are the 'Average Joe' or 'Jack of all Trades' elves that have not chosen a field to specialize in or prefer not to. Finally, Invertevin are the in training elves not yet ready to serve a Master, mostly elfin children.

Their position names would be known as, for example 'Biovin-Metra' or 'Left-Metra'. With in the Avin grouping an extra title is added to show their specialty, for example 'Avin-Kitchens-Metra' or 'Avin-Grounds-Metra'. This way of name recognition would most likely confuse and insult regular wizard of the wizarding society, imagine being called 'Pureblood-Reporter-Skeeter' or 'MuggleBorn-Monarch-Morgana'. For elves, it is second nature to refer to a title rather than just the name.

"Left-Metra, I am being surprised to see you." The ministry elf said still a little awestruck. "It was decided you would be labeled dead."

"Dead?" yelped Metra "Why, I was only not found for eight days."

"Ahh, yes but the bodies of Head-Butochly and Right-Googus were found dead, Butter Beer poisoning. I fear the loss of their pervious Master was too great." The other elf replied solemnly.

Metra was in shock. As fellow Bowers, Metra had been very close too them. I suddenly hit Metra how close she had been to succumbing to the same fate as them. How many more bottles of Butter Beer would it have taken for her to have received alcohol poisoning? If it wasn't for baby Soury her body would be laying dead in some Muggle alley smelling of caramel. She then and there promised herself never to touch other bottle of Butter Beer with the intensions to drink it. In a way Soury saved her life last night.

'My hero Soury' Metra thought to herself, "Invertevin-Hero-Soury."

A smile touched her dark chocolate brown lips at the sound of that.

"Pardon?" the ministry elf asked unable to properly her what Metra said.

"Nothing. I am sad at the loss of my fellow Bowers." Her good mood vanishing and the urge to have a bottle of Butter Beer returning. She squashed the urge viciously.

The ministry elf nodded, "I am sorry for your losses. I need remove the 'dead' status for your file and contact all wizarding families that were previously interested in your auction as a Bower. You will have a great many noble families bidding for you. You are very honored."

"I am." Metra agreed for more than just that reason.

"Here is your summoning pin, it will heat up when your new Master or Mistresses is settled. You may leave now or stay and wait. The auction wont be until tomorrow, so you may stay in the ministry elf bunks for the night if you wish." The ministry elf concluded.

"Merci. I will stay the night in the bunks after I collect my treasure." Metra said before turning and leaving.

The ministry elf merely cocked its head in curiosity 'final treasure'? Sighing the little elf began running around to prepare for the auction.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

Metra returned to the house that only those who already knew where it was could find. The wards allowed her entrance this time and she quickly found her way to the kitchen.

Things were a little… chaotic to say the least. Baby Soury was crying loudly while Avin-Kitchen-Tummber and another Biovin elf tied to appease him. Nothing they were doing was helping and the little elves were frantic. In the corner Head-Kreacher was banging his head into the stonewall.

Seeing Head-Kreacher was at the end of his rope Metra decided to step in before he chose to make good on his threat and toss Soury out onto the doorstep.

"Shhh Soury shhh." Metra said in a soothing tone. She went over and scooped up the baby, but he did not quiet. "Are you hungry little one?"

Metra crinkled her nose at the foul smell the baby in her arms had about him. It seemed he had dirtied his diaper. She did not have one to replace it with so she settled for banishing the diapers contents and _Scourgify_ to restore it to cleanliness.

The baby stopped crying and giggles slightly at the tingle of magic on his bottom.

The other three elves sighed in relief as the baby had stopped it's wailing.

"I think he is hungry." Metra said to Avin-Kitchen-Tummber.

The kitchen elf looked to Head-Kreacher for permission and who gave in with a stiff nod. Tummber started to make a nutritional baby formal.

"I expect the baby to be feed and then both of you gone before I return." Kreacher grumbled before he turned and left the room.

"Merci, Head-Kreacher." Metra replied near silently, while bouncing the baby a little in her arms.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

Later that night Metra and Soury had settled into a cot at the Ministry provided elf bunks. It had been a little tricky to smuggle the baby in but once inside things had been quite easy.

Metra swaddled the little child in one of the thin blankets provided. His vibrant green eyes stared curiously into her mud brown ones before they began to droop. Metra smiled when the child had finally succumb to sleep. She slid into the small cot and cradle the baby to her chest.

"Tomorrow, Soury is a new beginning."

With those final words she fell asleep as well.

TBC

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_Okay, that's it for now thank you to all who reviewed and please do so again. Also I created a poll on my profile page._

_Review Please.  
(-Puppy dog eyes-)_


	3. Chapter 2 – Mistress

_Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you think I'd be writing on FanFiction?  
Pairing: Still Undecided (get your votes in soon or miss out.)  
Rating: 'M' (Depending on pairing possible 'NC-17')  
Warnings: Refer to Prologue _

_A/N:I am finding it hard to make a choice on a pairing for this story. A lot of people want Slash or more  
specifically SS/HP, but there are those who don't wish to see any pairing. I'd hate to lose any readers  
because of the decision I have to make._

_Also, Please vote on my pole. I need your advice._

_On a happier note thank you to my reviewer;  
Elfwyn, SnapeItUp_00, Concrete-Random, pineapple69, SnapeLover, KoYuSa, TornIntoPieces,  
, lulucats144, Crazy Kitten House of Cards, Blither_net, AnonC, Yashida, Payingthe piper, denise134_

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_**My Kingdom for a… Mistress**_

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Lady Helena Rennae Harocroft of the most Ancient and Pure house of Harocroft was by public societies opinion a most proper and sophisticated woman. Though greatly advanced in years she continues to wear the title of her honoured ancestors most respectfully. A sharp and cunning woman who knows to store her emotions and expressions away, like her vast clothing selection, to only be worn when the occasion called for it.

And this day most certainly called for it.

News had reached her of a recently bond dissolved elf. This in itself was nothing new. Every once in a while a group of elves would wish to become bonded or a remaining heir would die, more than likely murdered, and all the elves servicing that family would be once again put to market. She didn't not usually attend the Bower auctions for she had no need of any more servants. As it was in another couple decades she would mostly pass on into the hands of death and her elves put for auctions. As for the information one could glean from an elf, well she had her own ways of obtain information.

No, what interested her was the identity of this elf. When she held the invitation of admittance and profile of the elf being auctioned it wasn't its name nor its high station she recognized, but its magical signature. A signature she had been quite familiar with when she was a child. A magical signature that one could almost taste in every meal this particular elf personally prepared.

The ginger bisques for the times her stomach was unsettled. The molasses scones in the morning for the days filled with training that would cause you to purge your stomach contents if it was anything heaver. The red, orange and yellow pepper soup for the times she needed to warm not only her body but also her soul after more frigid than usual family encounter.

That is what she remembered.

She flipped through the profile booklet and sparred a glance at the moving photo. It looked more like a mug shot than anything else. The elf was quite plain looking, which would account for the fact that she didn't remember what it looked like before now. It was a long time ago and once you've seen one elf and you've pretty much seen them all. The little things all looked alike.

Yes, she would be attending this auction, but not just to be able to taste that soup again. No, it was because this elf had knowledge of many dark secrets. Secrets not of her family name but of those it had served, the Toussaint. More specifically the late Gregoir Andrews Toussaint. A disgusting waste of a human being. She would rather kiss a muggle than be in the same room as his rotting corpse.

Gregoir was the nephew of the just recently deceased, final heir William Rothburg Toussaint. William had taken no wife because he himself was sterile and unable to produce an heir. Instead he named Gregoir as his heir seeing as Gregoir's parents had died in a raid during the rise of Lord Grindelwald. As the last two remaining Toussaints, William had arranged a marriage for Gregoir to wed a most excellent pureblood witch. Gregoir instead chose the second most excellent witch. That witch being Helena's sister.

Lady Harocroft allowed herself a moment in which express her sadness over the loss of her younger sister Angelina Rennae Harocroft. Such a horrible happening and to this day she continues to feel the guilt of one to powerless to stop it.

The original wedlock contract was to be between the eldest daughter of the house of Harocroft and Gregoir of the house of Toussaint. That is until Gregoir saw Angelina.

Lady Harocroft always new her sister was exquisite. While she herself, had an aristocratic beauty her sister had an ethereal beauty. Angelina was as tempting as a veela but with only pureblood in her veins and Gregoir became obsessed. He wished only to wed Angelina even though she was barely sixteen and still a minor. Going so far as to threaten the product trade treaties the two families had from long ago. Not even his Uncle could make him see reason. In the end the strong ties of the trade agreement were decided to be more important than Angelina's welfare.

The wedlock contract was changed and instead of Helena Masses Harocroft, the name Angelina Rennae Harocroft was in its place.

They were wed and sent off to Northern Toussaint estates. Little did they know that they were sending Angelina to a gilded cage and an obsessively cruel master. Angelina's free and gentle sprite was crushed and her life was taken at the hand of the man who forced her to be his.

Gregoir Andrews Toussaint was charged with the brutal torture and murder of Angelina Rennae Harocroft and was sentenced to 30 years in Azkaban. The filth didn't even last two.

When Helena heard the news of her younger sister's death she had cried. Tears of agony, sorrow, regret and guilt. The words 'if only' ran wild in her mind and did nothing but make her cold. That day was the last time she cried true tears. Yes, over the years she has shed a tear or two to make an act convincing, but they were nothing more than false tears. Not even her parent's deaths could in truth wet her eyes. After Angelina nothing seemed to be worth cry over in comparison. She had, soon after her parents death and her induction as head and sole heir of the most Ancient and Pure house of Harocroft, changed her legal name from Helena Masses Harocroft to Helena Rennae Harocroft in memory of her sister.

Lady Harocroft shook herself out of her remembrance and focused on the now. A smirk touched her lips lightly, making her slightly wrinkled face look sinister.

Among the wedding gifts given to Gregoir and Angelina, was a host of house elves. One of them specifically chosen by her to watch over her sister. An elf that had always seemed to make life slightly more bearable for Helena and would hopefully do the same for Angelina.

The elf was in a way an apology for not being able to stop the wedding. The two sisters had used the elf as messenger to deliver letters back and forth without their parent or Gregoir finding out.

They started to write in a password-protected notebook just incase the little elf was ever caught. Helena would write about her awful training and Angelina would send words of comfort. Which was all backwards in Helena's mind for she should be the one comforting her younger sisters. Angelina rarely wrote about the goings on in her home and this only caused Helena to worry all the more. For she had seen Gregoir for what he was very moment she met have, a leach. Sucking the life and worth out of everything including Angelina. So it was of great surprise that Angelina wrote to her about Gregoir's research. No one really knew what Gregoir researched not even his uncle but many rumors were that he was a servant of the Dark Lord Grindelwald.

Angelina had read some of his research and realized what it was. Though she hadn't written what it was she found in that entry she did say she would make duplicates of some of his work and send it next time she wrote. That was the last entry Helena received from her sister and a week later Angelina body was found burned along with Gregoirs secret research study. It was thought all of Gregoir's research was destroyed when the man burned his study and his wife. It was only the piece of paper in Angelina's mouth that had told Helena otherwise. On that small piece of parchment was a symbol of an arch and an eye. The same one as on the cover of their notebook. The answers were in the notebook and the notebook was with the elf.

The elf that was their secret messenger.

The elf that was her favorite cook.

The elf that had just recently had its bond dissolved.

After all these years of waiting the final heir, William Rothburg Toussaint, had finally passed on. She was at least give her chance to recover the secrets that her sister thought were worth dieing for. She had already bought the condemned Northern Toussaint estates believing it to be the most likely place the research was hidden, now all she needed was the elf.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

Harry James Potter was by public societies opinion a powerful wizard and brave little warrior. But to the ministry sanctioned elves he was an unwelcome guest into the bunks. They wouldn't have mind so much if it weren't for the fact that every 3 hours he would wake all the elves by wailing like banshee and smelling just as ripe. Multiple times one of the Avin-kitchen elves had fetched a bottle of infant nutrient potion just to have some peace and quiet.

Metra would mutter apologies as she tried to calm the child, but she never had to care for any of her pervious master's children so she was at quite a loss beyond the basics.

Finally an elf recently transferred from the St. Mungo's 'Little Ones Ward' offered to look over the child.

At first Metra had been a little wary. The new elf was seemingly male, but grender was never a large part of their society except in reproduction of off-spring. He introduced himself as Biovin-Micca and his thin body was covered in white pillowcase, probably from St. Mungo's.

"I do not think you will have any more luck than I have." Metra said. In her opinion elves sometimes thought more highly of themselves because of where they worked. But just because an elf worked in a hospital, didn't mean they were anywhere as medically knowledgeable as the medi-wizards.

"I know my station as a Biovin has you worried, but I promise I have had a lot of experience with little ones." He tried to reassure.

She was still undecided, but the glares she was receiving because baby Soury were enough to sway her. "I will agree to let you look at him."

She stepped away from the small cot were the baby lay wailing with all his lung capacity. The Ministry provided elf bunks were housed in a small area even for half sized creatures like house elves, so she had to squeeze by Micca to allow him to see baby Soury better.

Her eyes were watchful of the other elf's every move.

Micca carefully unwrapped the baby from the blankets.

"It was smart of you to swaddle him in the blankets. He doesn't seem to be cold at all."

Metra blushed slightly at the other elf's praise.

The biovin gently removed the baby's jumper, looking for any injuries or ailments. Finding nothing obvious he ran his hands over the child. Magic lightly licked at the baby's skin, but it was enough to startle Metra.

"What are you doing!" she yelled not caring for the angry grumbles she got from the sleeping elves. She tired to pry Micca's hand away from Soury in fear that he was hurting him.

Micca allowed his hands to be pulled.

"It's okay, it okay." He said to try to calm her done. "I'm am only allowing my magic to skim over his skin. I've watched the medi-witches do this a lot. It helps you find problems inside the body."

Metra frowned not convinced.

He continued before she could argue. "With my magic so close to his body I'll be able to feel if there is anyplace were his magic is more centered."

"Why do you need to know that?" she asked slightly curious now.

"If I feel a lot of magic in a place were it doesn't normally stay then it means there might be something wrong that his magic is trying to fight or heal."

Understanding lit up Metra's eyes. "I see now." She added hesitantly "He will not be hurt?"

"No, no. He probably wont even feel it." Micca assured.

Somewhat more relaxed, Metra nodded for the other elf to continue his…scan?

Once again magic filled the small distance between the baby's still crying body and his hands. Unlike wizarding magic elfin magic was not visible to the human eye.

The baby wiggling made it hard for the elf to concentrate and a small amount of sweet began to bead on his dirty grayish skin.

He magic flowed over the boy's legs, up his body, over his torso and along his arms, but nothing seemed to be out of place.

Micca was starting to doubt his own ability in helping the child. He had watched the medi-witches and wizards so much he thought he could do it, but…Wait! A flair of magic seemed to reach up to his own as he was passing his hand over the boy's forehead.

Relief and worry both fought inside him. Relief because Micca now knew he had preformed the magical scan correctly. Fear because if the problem was in the little wizard's brain there wasn't much he could do to help. He brushed the hair from the baby's forehead and found himself looking at strange little burn wound in the sharp of a lightening bolt. 'There' he thought. That was where the magic was centered.

Closing his eyes he let his sense of magic grow deeper. He became more in tuned with the currents of magic that flowed through the air like a rippling stream of water. He focused on his magic and than the magic of the baby below him. No not magic… magics? There seemed to be more that one, three in fact.

Micca's eyebrows furled and he tried to examine the magics more but was unable to do so. One of magics was for certain the boy's but the other two… he didn't know.

Though all house elves had a deeper relationship to magic than witches and wizards did it was not in sync enough to tell that much detail. There were some elves, usually inter species offspring, that had a deeper connection to magic but they were generally few and far between.

He figured he should probably say something to the elf behind him. What was her name again… ah Metra. Yes he should include her before she wore a hole in the stone floor from her shuffling. The stone was already looking a little polished and her feet a little red.

"I've found something." He said warily to Metra, not sure on how she would react.

"What is it!" she asked nearly climbing over the Biovin to see her little Soury.

If someone had told her 2 weeks ago she would be making a fool of her just to see a little baby she would have thought them crazy. To an elf very few things were worth endangering their station for.

Peeking around the Biovin, she made sure the child was unharmed… or a least relatively so considering he was still crying.

"What is it?" she asked again little more calmly this time.

Micca tried to regain his balance after nearly being run over by the wired little elf. Sure she was probably twice his age, but she still acted like an Invertevin when it came to this little baby. Actually the more he thought about it the more he remembered hearing about a recently bond dissolved Bower that was being put for auction the following day… or wait this was the morning so earlier that day then. Could this be the left Bower he had heard about? He pushed the thought aside for now.

He straitened up his pillowcase a bit and moved the baby's hair from his forehead once more.

"See here." He pointed.

Metra nodded.

"This is where a lot of his magic is centered… well magics are centered." He corrected himself.

"Magics?" she asked blinking her mudded brown eyes in confusion.

"Yes, magics unfortunately that is about all that I can figure out. I couldn't even guess how that is possible. Not even in childbirth does a parent have two magics. This is odd, but maybe why he is crying."

Metra laid a palm over the babies swollen red mark and pushed her magic to heal the little cut.

"Don't!" and new voice yelled. An old elf stager up to the pair, he had more wrinkles on his body than most likely all the other elves in the bunks combined. He walked slightly crouched and seemed to almost drag his left leg, rather than walk on it.

"Don't touch the child!" he cried out, voice more deep and garbled than the average elf.

"But he is hurt." Metra tried to explain still a little lost by the elderly elves appearance.

"Don't!" he voice was firm as he came to stand only inches away from Metra making here wish for a little more space.

Before Metra and Micca could blink, they found themselves pushed aside causing them to trip over each other and fall over a near by bunk. The elf occupy that bunk was less than pleased to be squashed.

Shaking her head to regain her bearings, she nearly jumped out of her wrinkled skin when she noticed the elderly elf leaning over Soury so much that he was obscured from her vision.

Fright rose in her chest and she dove back over the elf in the bunk causing it to let out an oomph!

She made a grab for the old elf to yank him away. Only to be stop by his gruff voice once again.

"Don't!" he didn't turn away from his visual examination on the child's head.

"W…What are you doing?" Metra asked feeling suddenly helpless. Micca stood beside her once more.

"Nothing."

"But…" she tried to interject.

"No, I am doing nothing and nothing is what you will do." He final turned his pale grey eyes away from the baby and focused in Metra. His pale eye colour meant his was losing his sight and soon would have little use as a house elf.

"You wish for me to do nothing about his wound?"

"Yes."

"But…"

"Nothing!" he glared hard at her.

It had been a long time since she had been on the receiving end of a glare like that. Actually she could remember giving a misbelieving Invertevin that very same look not but 3 weeks ago. She did not like being on the receiving end of it even if this elf was older than her.

"Fine, what would you have me do?" Metra asked giving a glare of her own.

"Nothing."

Metra nearly sighed in exasperation. "I think you made that part clear, but I can't just let his injury go untreated it could become diseased."

"I think you mean infected." Micca corrected only to receive a glare for his trouble.

"_You_ will do nothing…" the old elf stated again.

"Argh…" Metra was starting to wonder if he had memory loss or something.

"…An Syn will do some thing." He finished gruffly ignoring Metra's interruption.

"A Syn?" That got both younger elves attention as well as a couple of the surrounding bunks also.

"You wish to have an Syn look at the child forehead." Micca said unconsciously rubbing his sore elbow from when he fell. "Yes that is what I had thought about earlier, but they are so rare."

Metra nodded. "I do not even know of any Magic sensitive elves never mind a Syn who has a close magical synchronization with magic as an entirety."

"_You_ will do nothing. Only the a blind elf can." And with those parting word the elderly elf turned to leave.

Metra and Micca turned to stare confusedly at each other hope that the other might understand. No such luck. Blind elves have no place within a wizarding home. They are of no use. Deciding it would be best to ask where they could find this _blind elf_ they turned only to find the old elf gone. Vanished into thin are or more likely 'popped' away.

Both elves stared at each other for a moment before becoming awkward.

"Ah… Thank you for trying to help baby Soury." Metra said after a moment. Though the other elf really didn't do much, she figured she owed him a 'thank you' for the effort.

"No problem. I didn't really help at all." There was another awkward silence until both elves were suddenly hit by the fact that it was _silent._ Glancing over to the cot revealed that baby Soury had tired himself out by all his crying and was now sleeping peacefully.

"Thank goodness he finally asleep." Metra sighed.

"Yeah, he is much more appealing while unconscious." Agreed Micca.

Metra sent him a glare for his wording. Her first language might not have been English but she was fluent enough to know he worded his sentence into a slight insult.

"Sorry." He apologized, "It's been a long night. I'm going to grab some sleep while I can. Maybe I'll see you around?" He asked slightly hopefully.

"Most likely not. My auction is today and will be bonded to my new Master or Mistress by the ending of this day." Metra then turned away to tend to Soury while Micca toddled off wondering how a crazy little elf like her ended up being a Bower.

Metra lay down beside the baby holding him protectively to her thin chest. "Bonne nuit mon coeur."

Morning seemed to come too soon and with it a batch of cranky, sleep deprived elves for which the ministry had never seen before.

Metra had taken Soury and 'pop'ed away early to the DoEE to wait for the auction results and her new Master or Mistress.

**My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A… My Kingdom For A…**

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy was by public societies opinion one of two people. He was either a charming aristocrat or a cunning lapdog; it all depended on whom you asked.

The Malfoy family along with a great deal of other prominent families found themselves in the public spot light. A place usually sought after but on this occasion the opposite could be said. For this time the press would be waiting not to hear the words of any of these families but the judgments of the Wizengamot. The reporters and public alike were waiting to hear either the word 'innocent' or 'guilty'.

The mass prosecutions started not but hours after the Dark Lords down fall and Lord Malfoy found himself as one of the first to take the stand.

He was, of course, guilty not that he was going to let anyone prove it. He had just lost his Dark Lord and the power obtained from the role of being in his inner circle. But if there was one thing a Malfoy knew how to do it was make themselves look good and Lucius was no exception.

He played the court and jury like a finely tuned violin. His plea of not guilty via being under the imperius curse was taken over the word of even Igor Karkaroff who was singing like a canary to avoid Azkaban.

It was almost easy to turn the court to his side, though it would cost his a pretty knut to do so, they all wanted him to be innocent, because if a highly respected pureblood fell to the Dark Lord's powerful persuasion than who else was on the side of the dark? No, the people of the court didn't wish to shatter their already cracked views anymore than they had already been. Well all except that meddling fool Dumbledore.

Lord Malfoy in total spent only 4 hours held under suspicion and only 30 minutes of that was actual court time. Still it seemed to be 30 minutes too late. For he like many of the other families of high standing received a invitation to a Bower Auction. A very special auction he had been waiting for, seemingly forever. The auction of the Toussaint's Left Bower elf. Previously owned by the late murder Gregoir Andrews Toussaint and the supposed head researcher for Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald. Though that last part was never proven do to the fire that killed his wife and destroyed any research. It was only through… questionably legal means that Lucius's father, Lord Abraxas Brutus Malfoy gained certain information pertaining to a hidden portion of the research. Hidden by none other than the elf being auction that very day.

To be honest he had thought he had missed his chance when the other two Bowers had turned up dead, but luck seemed to be willing to give him a second chance at the elf.

After receiving a not guilty verdict Lord Malfoy left the courtroom as fast as civilly possible. Malfoy never made a fool of themselves by looking rushed.

He had traveled up the three levels in the ministry between the Wizengamot courts and DoEE. He figured he still had time to out bid all any others for the elf even though the auction had already started.

He turned the last corner and felt a smirk crawl up his pale peach lips as the entrance to the DoEE came in site. It was time to rattle the social standing of the high-class families. His little court date had cost him more than a couple galleons. No, it cost him his pride and made his foot hold in the social ladder a bit too slippery for his tastes. He was about to change that though because on top of receiving the location to Toussaint's lost research he was about to obtain a lot of black mail material. And everyone who was anyone knows that is what makes the world go round.

As Lucius cleared the final few feet between him and the large, polished maple-wood door his world came to an abrupt halt. For as the door opened the devil herself came into view.

Lord Malfoy quickly collected himself for he knew that even the slightness expression would be noticed by this… this _woman_, if you could even call her that. She was more of a demon than the Dark Lord himself ever was. Her dangerous cunning was only rivaled by her cutthroat cruelty. She hid behind a mask of a polite well aged woman, but Lucius never fell for it even though most all did. He couldn't see behind her mask but he knew she had one…or perhaps many of them. She was emotionally frozen with a control he would never hope to have. A true ice queen, Lady Helena Rennae Harocroft. The devil herself.

She was dressed in a deep scarlet dress robe, though there was nothing Griffindor about this colour. No it was the colour of drying blood. She wore a dark auburn shawl and completed the look with an ebony walking cane though Lucius knew that too was only for show.

The look in her eyes showed that she had seen his surprise before he had been able to mask it and her air of superiority was that much more oppressing because of it. It was something he had both hated and feared about her from the first time he met her at the not so tender age of 4. His late father had been smitten with Lady Harocroft and even with her advanced year he could see why. She was striking in looks, charming in wit and fierce in a battle of the mind. And as he had foolishly told his father so many years ago '_scary as hell itself'._

"Goodday Lady Harocroft." Lord Malfoy said keeping his face impassive and tilting his head in a polite nod.

"Good morn, to you as well Lord Malfoy." Both her words and voice were pleasant despite their hidden mockery. "I do hope you are here because of concerns over an elf in your home. For if you were here, pre se, to attempt purchase of another it would be my sad duty to inform that any such elves are already in new ownership." Her lips twisted into the slightest of smirks just enough to rub salt into his wounds. "I bid thee good day, I must take my leave. Much work to be done."

With that she strolled elegantly away, mimicking the grace of a woman half her age, leaving Lord Malfoy to control his temper.

Even knowing what lay ahead, the head of the Malfoy family forced himself to walk threw the polished maple door and into the empty entrance hall. He was finding it harder and harder to retain his calm mask as the situation became clearer and clearer more. Walking swiftly with all the his ingrained poise, he made his way to the front desk.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy greetings." Said the gangly wizard from behind the desk. "If your are here for the auction I'm afraid it is over."

Lucius fought the urge to sneer at the fool. "No, no Mr. …"

"Gawlos, sir. Young Gawlos." The desk attendant said.

"Mr. Gawlos, then. No I am not here for the auction. I have plently of elves and have no need for another." The Malfoy head stated in a bored tone. "I am here because I have a concern over one of my elves."

"Oh, I sorry to here that. You have several options in dealing with elves, what would you like to do?" Mr. Gawlos not even suspecting the lie. "You can trade in your elf for another ministry sanction one, if you like. I can have an assortment brought in for you to chose from."

"That sounds acceptable."

"Right-o. If I could just get you to fill out these forms, I'll summon the elves." Mr. Gawlos pull a large stack of papers from beneath the desk and summoned a quill for Lord Malfoy. Lucius withheld another sneer at the thick pile of paper work and started filling them out.

"Pretty crazy day here, Mr. Malfoy. If you had come about a ½ hour earlier you would have witnessed the shortest Bower auction in the history of this department." Mr. Gawlos was leaning on the desk in a unprofessional manner and totally oblivious to Lord Malfoy's rising ire. "I mean wow! That Lady Harocroft is something else. The auctioneer didn't even get to start the bidding before she interrupted by standing up and stating she would pay 300, 000 galleons for the elf. I mean you could see everyone in the bidding seat give up and almost sag. 300, 000 galleons for one elf! That's almost double the las…"

_Snap_

The quill Lord Mafloy was using broke. The tip snapping right off.

"Oh, dear. Darn things tend to do that every once and awhile. Here I'll go get another one from out back." Mr. Gawlos turned but only got 3 steps before a light green spell hit him cause him to fall face first on the ground. The pile of paper were banished a second later.

Shaking with barely concealed rage Lucius Abraxas Malfoy left the DoEE, cursing the she-devil known as Helena Rennae Harocroft. He left behind a confused Mr. Gamlos wondering how he ended up on the floor… again.

TBC

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_Okay this story is most surely changing from what I had originally planned. I swear I am just as surprised by the words my fingers type as you the reader. Also no one would recognize Harry by his scar yet because very few even know about it besides those how have seen him. Thank you for reading._

_Please Review_

_(Little kitten pout)_


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